


Malice Without Intent

by CyberneticFire



Series: The Avoidance of Emotions [2]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor Whump (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Angst, Anxiety, Aromantic Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Gore, Nightmares, No Sex, No Smut, Panic Attacks, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Self-Harm, Sex Repulsed Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Soft Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Swearing, Touch-Averse Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Touch-Starved Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), implied starvation, void!alastor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22797046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyberneticFire/pseuds/CyberneticFire
Summary: Alastor is back. One moment he was dead, trapped in the endless silence of the Void, and then he wasn't. Now he has to readjust to the chaos of Hell, and nothing feels quite right with his thoughts sparking negative, unfamiliar emotions and his mind tormenting him to no end. Thankfully he has his friends to help him adjust, but nothing quite helps the dread that sticks with him. The worst of the nightmare has surely passed, hasn't it?
Relationships: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) & Everyone, Charlie Magne/Vaggie
Series: The Avoidance of Emotions [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607425
Comments: 50
Kudos: 228





	1. Rude Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I apologize for the wait, but I wanted this chapter to be extra long as the start of the new work! If you haven't read Null and Void, I would highly recommend reading that first as this story won't make much sense without it. Please be mindful of the tags and stay safe!

Alastor didn’t wake all at once. His thoughts were sluggish, limbs were slow to respond, and his senses were all askew. He was uncomfortably _warm._ There wasn’t the empty coolness that came with the lack of air in the void; there was something smooth and soft beneath him and a fabric that made him itch to move away. The deer sank deeper into the plush instead with a barely audible sigh.

The gentle crackle of static weaving out of his chest screeched to a stop as red eyes pried open to peer into the darkness. They shut immediately after not being met with the familiar endless abyss. _That wasn’t right._

There was ticking, tapping, a radio somewhere that made his ears twitch in discomfort after being in silence with nothing but his own thoughts and voice for so long. Alastor decided the headache was worth not being in the dark like that any longer, so he let his eyes open slowly and adjust to the dim lighting of the room. _His_ room.

“What-” a cough wracked his body at the horrid scratching in throat, and he grasped at it in distress. Why was his throat so sore? A flash of white on his arm accompanied the movement and drew his attention next. The confusion, dread mix swirling in his stomach only got worse at the uncertainty of his situation. Bandages? This wasn’t… a hallucination. It felt too _real_.

His claws shifted to scratch at the wraps around his arms as he looked around. What the hell had _happened?_ Light wasn’t filtering in through the window, so it must’ve been _late._ Alastor was beginning to hate this recurring cycle of pain, unconsciousness, then confusion. It left him with less dignity every time, and yet, what did he have left of that? No, if any of this was real, then that meant Charlie had been there, and _he was_ _really back at the Hotel._

A soft click had black and red ears perking and Alastor’s head swiveling towards the door. The princess of Hell slid her way into the room, a hint of salt and something steamy making the deer demon lean forward in enticement. A tray was clutched in Charlie’s hands and she jolted upon seeing the Radio Demon dial-eyed and drooling at the smell of a simple broth.

“Oh-! Er, you’re up!” Her fingers tightened imperceptibly around the tray before she noticed him picking at the bandages. Her entire demeanor changed in an instant, and she was at his side immediately, nerves replaced with worry and irritation as she fussed over him. “Don’t tear the bandages, Al, you’re going to hurt yourself again- or more!”

Static buzzed as Alastor shrunk back at the sudden proximity, ears drooping, smile stiffening while his gaze flicked between Charlie’s concerned expression and the soup. The demon belle was obviously exhausted as well, dark circles prominent beneath her eyes, but with every breath making his stomach ache it was rather hard to focus on that. Food was _right there out of reach._

Charlie’s eyes softened at the lack of response and the way the deer curled into himself instead of speaking or making himself bigger like usual. Then they widened in remembrance causing her to let out a squeak, “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, you must be starving!” In a flash the apologetic expression was back, and she was pressing the warm bowl into his hands, ignoring the flinch, after ensuring he wouldn’t drop it. “Don’t drink it too fast or you might get-” The soup was gone in three gulps when he tossed back the bowl, “-sick…”

The warm liquid soothed the soreness, making speaking sound like less of a challenge, and the broth filling the deer’s stomach let him blink the radio dials out of his eyes. Then they were narrowing in confusion and Alastor cleared his throat to speak before a bout of nausea had him gagging. Charlie yanked the bowl away with a yelp, shoving a bucket into his lap right in time for him to heave his guts out.

What a _lovely_ impression he was making. Not even five minutes conscious back in the hotel and the deer already regretted waking up.

By the time he was aware again, Alastor was panting for air, clutching the edge of the container in a white-knuckled grip while Charlie muttered soothing nothings, rubbing circles into his back. Her fingers brushed hesitantly over his prominent spine, only pulling away at his shudder. Now _this_ was humiliating.

There was a prickle of magic, a ghost of his former power, back in his body that he would address later, but summoning even a napkin seemed too big of a task. Thankfully, Charlie seemed to notice the deer’s plight and handed him a handkerchief which he used to wipe his mouth clean. Now vulnerable, weak, _and_ a mess doubts began to surface. Charlie surely knew all of this, so why was she still bothering to help him?

When he was sure he wouldn’t be sick again, he asked the question that’d been plaguing him mercilessly since he woke up.

“What… happened?” Alastor’s radio tin warbled and shook. Pressing a hand to his sternum, he marveled at the throbbing pulsing in time with the erratic heartbeat behind his ribs. Being connected to all channels again for the first time in a long time he should easily be able to have a soft jazz rolling through the room, through his head, calming the furious beating of his heart. The radio fizzled and popped, but only jumbled bits of music began to filter softly through the air while Charlie wrung her hands. The sound wasn’t nearly as therapeutic as he’d hoped.

“W-Well,” she took a steadying breath, shifting to face him entirely. Her hands hovered over his own, but she refrained from touching without consent again. Despite the kind gesture, Alastor found he _wanted_ the touch this time, so he closed the distance, wrapping his fingers loosely around hers. His ears pressed lower when she tensed up. Oh dear, fear was… not something he liked to see in her anymore. Certainly not because of _him._ She was quick to flash a smile and offer a gentle squeeze in return, regardless.

“I… found a way to save you, Al.” Her grip tightened minutely while a crackle filtered through his teeth. Yes, she _had_ , but at what cost? He raised a shaky hand to brush a few of the tears welling up in her tired eyes.

“You look _exhausted_ , dear…”

Charlie let out a watery laugh, and something settled like a stone in the deer’s gut. It was a feeling he’d become quite acquainted with in his time in the… void.

_Guilt._

“You don’t exactly look too energetic yourself,” she joked. Huffing out a weak laugh, Alastor let his eyes trail lower. They widened marginally upon following her wrists up to her forearms.

White bandages. They were wrapped around _her_ arms too. There was an audible click as realization dawned. Charlie’s gaze followed his own, and she winced as he gripped her arm in a firm hold.

“Al- “

“Did I do this?” There was no attempt at humor as his brows furrowed, smile diminishing. He turned her arm over carefully, claws lingering near the red dotting the white cloth. Charlie went rigid. _These are fresh. They must have been from when she grabbed him._

“Alastor, it was an accident, you didn’t mean- “

_“Did I do this?”_ He hardly heard her utter the yes.

Claws trembling, grip constricting, he fixed his gaze on the crimson seeping through. The scent of iron was more discernable now, making his head throb, his senses sharpen, and drool practically pool in his mouth. It was getting hard to think. _He hurt her._ Shame sank into the pit in his stomach – _it was aching again_ – as he mulled over the fact. _She helped him. And he cut open her arm._ Dense static rolled from his chest as the tantalizing smell overwhelmed him. _It’s been so long since he’s had a fresh meal._ Even as he leaned forward, horns twisting, teeth sharpening, he thought things would’ve been better for all of them if she would have just let him wither away in the void.

_“Alastor stop!”_

Alastor’s eyes snapped open from their half-lidded, radio-dialed state as he jolted, attention jerking back to Charlie’s face. The poor dear looked _terrified_. It’d been a while since she’d looked at him in such a way and he didn’t fully understand why…

Warm liquid dribbled down his wrist. The deer looked down. His claws were embedded in her arm, drawing more of the sanguine liquid from beneath the bandages and gripping so tight it looked painful.

“L-Let go please,” she whispered, voice high like tears were threatening to spill over. Alastor ripped his hands away like she’d burned them. The smell of iron suddenly made his stomach turn over.

“Ch-Charlie I-” What could he even say to that display? Chest rising and falling mechanically, he wrapped his arms around his torso, digging nails into his sides instead. “- I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me…”

Taking a deep breath, Charlie stood – strangely, panic lodged itself in Alastor’s chest – and she offered Alastor a tiny, tired smile at the genuine remorse plastered on his face.

“It’s okay- I’ll heal quickly. You’ve… been through a lot and you must still feel so confused… Besides, you rarely apologize, so I know you mean it,” she let out an awkward laugh. “I’m sure you’re still hungry, so I’ll just go get you some more-“

_“Don’t leave!”_

Charlie froze mid-turn at the unrestrained fear in the words. Alastor stiffened as well, slapping a hand over his mouth. He hadn’t _meant_ to say that out loud. When she’d started towards the door terror had seized his chest and squeezed the air out of his lungs, forcing out a pathetic sound too close to a whimper for comfort. What was _wrong_ with him? She was going to be right back! Charlie wouldn’t leave him alone. She wouldn’t leave him to talk to himself until his throat hurt, to think until his head throbbed, to tear out all the blood from beneath his skin until red stained his hands, his arms, the black surrounding him, because everything was wrong _, he was starving and going numb, going insane-_

“Hey, breathe! Alastor, breathe, you’re gonna be okay- You’re okay, everything’s fine, I’m right here!” Charlie’s concerned face rushed back into view, food and injuries forgotten.

Breathe? Was he not breathing? That would certainly explain the burning lungs and raw throat. It was a contrast to the cold sweat plastering fabric to his skin and hair to his forehead. Ignoring the twinge in his side, Alastor jerked his claws up to tear the fabric, because that’s what had to be making it hard to take in a full breath, it was _confining, it was suffocating-_

Hands wrapped around his wrists, pulling them away, and he let out a high laugh, what little air he had wheezing out, because _she was trying to stop him from helping himself!_ He wasn’t some useless deer demon; he just needed to get some semblance of control back and stop his chest from locking up, _so_ _why couldn’t she see that?_

But Alastor _was_ helpless, wasn’t he? At the least, he was too weak to twist out of Charlie’s grip, so he slammed his eyes shut, pressing back against something solid while teeth sank into his lip again. The blood leaked down his chin as shivers wracked his frame, Charlie’s voice fading in favor of the white noise filling his skull and bubbling up his throat.

Alastor hated this. Feeling exposed. Feeling vulnerable. Feeling cut open, irrational, petrified like the prey animal he represented. Charlie’s worried words of comfort and nervous chatter weren’t even audible anymore. Occasionally she would squeeze his wrists, but that was about the only grounding thing about this situation because opening his eyes would be a mistake. The deer wouldn’t be able to hold it together if black was all he would see, and static was all he could hear.

Hands were brushing against Alastor’s side, making him flinch, drawing a distressed keen from his throat. So much _uncertainty_. _God, he was a coward_ and _useless at the moment._ There was a second’s hesitation before they were back, palms pressing against his chest and pulling him away from his safe spot pressed against the headboard.

His wrists were released at his weak struggles, but were reclaimed again with another pair of hands, the coarse material of gloves grating against his skin and doubling his confusion. This wasn’t Charlie. This touch was gentle, yet insistent, as it guided him back against something soft and warm and… breathing?

Yes, there was an exaggerated rise and fall against his back that was almost soothing in its repetition. The arms wrapped loosely around his chest shifted to make room for a _third_ pair curling around his waist. Confusion gave way to relief as the static threatening to split his skull diminished at the safe, grounding feeling of being held. If he were in his right mind, he might’ve recoiled at the prospect of being embraced – _trapped_ \- for any amount of time, but for now he supposed, this was fine…

The static diminished further until Alastor could hear himself hyperventilating, shallow gasps not dragging in nearly enough air to keep him conscious. There were deeper breaths coming from the one restraining him. A voice became clear soon after, and he could put a face to it almost immediately.

“-got it, just try to breathe like me, Al-“

_Angel._ That certainly explained the extra arms but not what he was _doing._ Alastor was having difficulty fulfilling his request anyhow. Didn’t Angel think that he would if he could? He was _trying._

“C-Ca-Can’t…” was all he managed to force out in a whine. Black and red ears flattened further against the deer’s head at the state of his voice. Angel hugged tighter in either surprise or reassurance.

“Sure ya can, Al, just open your eyes… Try and copy me,” he hummed, starting to count his breaths aloud. Alastor could’ve cried in frustration, but did as he was told, gradually peeling his eyes open. Finding vague blurs of color and what _looked_ like a concerned Charlie perched on the edge of the bed he concluded he _had_ in fact been crying. The tears were still rolling down his cheeks, making the fresh cuts on his lips burn. Lovely.

After some coaxing from Angel Dust, breathing came at a pace resembling normal, even if his lungs were aching from the previous abuse. Still trembling violently and sucking in air greedily, Alastor was shocked to find he didn’t want Angel to let go just yet.

“Hey, Smiles, you back with us?” the spider asked, tentatively. Alastor offered the barest minimum of a nod, smile lacking its usual energy and eyes hollow. “I can let go of you now, if you-“

_“No,”_ Alastor swallowed the lump rising in his throat, claws hooking themselves in Angel’s sleeves. Angel blinked in surprise at the sharp reaction but readjusted his grip in compliance, releasing the deer’s hands once he was sure they wouldn’t gash anyone, himself included.

“I-I mean… I’d rather you d-didn’t…” The deer, usually immaculate in his speech, _stammered_. Heat rushed to Alastor’s face. Now that he had the presence of mind to consider his words and the scene he’d caused, he struggled to ignore the shame burning within him. Any demon in their right mind would drop him in an instant, thinking much less of him of course _\- him the late, great Radio Demon!_ – and now Alastor waited with bated breath for the hatred, the disapproval, the _disgust_ he was sure painted his friends’ faces-

“’Kay.”

And with a single word, not even a _full_ one at that, Alastor’s expectations were dashed. He was reluctant to let hope flood his chest – Lucifer, he didn’t recall caring _this much_ about what others thought – but the six arms wrapped snugly around him, the spider wiggling to lean back more comfortably against the pillows, and the soft look on Charlie’s face made it all the more difficult to stop the warmth blooming in his ribcage.

“Most people would pay to get cuddles like this you know,” Angel let out a soft laugh, concern still lacing his voice, and just like that the warmth was gone. Alastor swallowed thickly, eyes dropping to look at his and Angel’s legs sprawled before them. The feeling of wrongness was back. He didn’t belong here, in this place, with these people that he’d hurt. Of course, he’d be a bother, they’d all had _so much time_ to get used of his absence!

“I apologize,” he’s been doing that frequently as of late, “it’s wrong of me to ask this of you! I still haven’t the foggiest idea of what came over me-” he was moving to get up as he spoke, only for Angel to gently pull him back down until the deer was slumped sideways against his chest and blushing furiously. His hands curled – _against his will_ – into the spider’s jacket, and Alastor stole a glance at his face, half expecting to see some form of annoyance or exasperation. Angel’s brows were furrowed, yes, but it didn’t seem to be in annoyance, considering his eyes were soft and a sympathetic smile was tugging up the corners of his mouth.

“Al, it’s fine, I was just making a joke. I ain’t gonna kick you off for wanting comfort after a whole fu- fricken panic attack.” Angel amended his words at the Princess’s glare, but something about Alastor’s reaction seemed to confuse him. “You ever have more of those before?” Alastor blinked slowly, eyes narrowing in puzzlement.

“Panic… attack?” The words rolled unfamiliar off his tongue. No, the term wasn't one he was… familiar with. And now it was Angel’s turn to look uncertain, but realization was quick to dawn at the deer’s clueless expression.

_“Shit_ , Al, do you even know what that is?” A tiny shake of the head. Angel let out a breath through his teeth, ignoring Charlie’s stare. “Um, alright… well what you just went through _looked_ to be a panic attack. I’ve seen a lot considering my job. Usually you’ll feel scared, out of breath, and if it’s really bad you might think you’re dying or something like that… They can be triggered by a bunch of different things. Charlie said you started freaking out when she tried to leave, and you weren’t responding to anything else so…” He waved his lower set of hands pointedly as he continued, “Sorry about breaking the whole ‘Five Foot Rule’, but it was the only thing you reacted sort of positively to.”

Alastor mumbled a dismissal, already having trouble focusing with his eyelids getting heavier by the minute. A panic attack, hm? So, there was a technical term for these _lapses._ Poor Angel seemed to know more about them than he let on, but… if he were to go by that description, then Alastor _could_ recall one or two instances – outside of the void – that he’d had one. Though, just because they had a name, he didn’t feel any less ashamed that a vulnerability had been displayed at all. Then again, Angel has already seen him not at his best, and Charlie most _definitely_ has seen him at his worst…

Oh, what the hell.

“I do remember an occurrence in my… youth that sounds similar to what you described.” He took in a steadying breath, pushing the thoughts of _weakness_ out of his mind, as their heads jerked to stare at him in surprise. “I was never fond of dogs, you see, and… one day a particularly aggressive mutt decided to follow me while I was on my way home. I tried to outrun it once I’d realized, but… by the time my father had come to see what was taking me so long, the damned thing had latched onto my leg and I’d been experiencing… symptoms like the ones you described.”

Alastor could still remember the feeling like blunted knives sinking into his leg; not sharp enough to make a clean cut, but strong enough to make up for it. The sound of the thing's snarling, the deranged look in its eyes as it jerked it's head back and forth, spilling more of his precious blood into the dirt.

“He was able to scare the beast off, but I never did look at them the same way after that… Even the thought of going near one of those creatures again made my breath falter. I always assumed it was just a lapse of fragility on my part, and my father agreed, so I ignored it. I didn’t allow myself to avoid where I knew they would be. Eventually these… _attacks…_ stopped of their own accord, or I got so used to the feeling that they no longer could stop me in my tracks.”

Silence.

Alastor swore he could have heard a pin drop after his little monologue. Perhaps they weren’t expecting him to speak quite so much after his spell of silence? Or of the subject matter? The Radio Demon wasn’t known for sharing his innermost feelings, after all. Exhaustion sank deeper into his bones. Truth be told, the amount he revealed surprised him as well. Something written on Charlie’s face made him reconsider telling them the story in the first place, and Angel was giving him the same undecipherable look.

“Alastor that’s… horrible, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Charlie breathed, looking sympathetic as ever. Alastor’s brows lowered further at that. He wasn’t looking for _pity-_ he was simply answering Angel’s previous question! The story itself certainly wasn’t something to feel sorry about. It was _his_ fault for being such a coward, so _why_ were they looking at him like that?

“Al, you realize that… this doesn’t make you weak, or whatever shit you’re thinking, right? Hell, it can happen to the scariest demon you could think of! It’s not something you can _control._ ” Angel shot a look to Charlie over his head.

Now they were _both_ being ridiculous. Surely with enough time, these _panic attacks_ would be just as… manageable as they were back then. _If_ miraculously forgetting how to breathe at the sight of a dog could be considered manageable…

Regardless, this train of thought was pointless! He hardly had a fear of the hellish creatures anymore; a mild discomfort _maybe…_

“Alastor?” Charlie chimed in from the edge of the bed, a touch of concern coloring her voice. The deer blinked a few times, mind jumping back to the present conversation.

“Yes, darling?”

“Sorry, you just looked… lost in thought for a minute there,” she chuckled, moving to stand and watching carefully for any reaction. Claws curled further into Angel’s blazer, but other than that he offered none. “Since you and Angel seem to have things… handled, I’ll just run to get that food,” Alastor’s ear twitched, “and have Niffty bring some more bandages!” Her eyes flicked to the bit of red seeping through the white on his arms, while Alastor’s went to her own bloody bandages with a pang of remorse.

The clicking of her shoes as she walked set Alastor’s teeth on edge – he would have to grow accustomed to these regular sounds again – but mid-reach for the door, Charlie was whirling around with a startled, “Oh! And before I forget- Husk, Niffty, and Vaggie might drop in to see you on their own time, if that’s alright with you?”

Alright with him? Well, he certainly wouldn’t send them away, but apprehension rose as he considered the _number_ of things they might have to say. Ignoring the inner turmoil, he offered her another muffled affirmative, face still smooshed against Angel’s chest, causing said spider to snicker.

“Sorry Princess, he’s using the best damn pillow in all of Hell! It’s only natural he’d be out like a light.” _That_ earned a brighter laugh, and Alastor couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from quirking at the spider’s antics. He retaliated by making himself more comfortable and curling his legs up. Yes, _that’ll_ show Angel…

When the door shut with a click, Alastor found himself relaxing further. His sides were throbbing, but he was more comfortable than he’d been in _ages._ He was safe. Not alone. Not drowning in silence.

Then the radio on the nightstand clicked on, sending a jolt through his body – he hadn’t even realized the thing had fallen silent – while bits of music filtered in and out of the air.

Angel readjusted his hold, pulling his hand away from the device and glancing down apologetically. “Sorry, I thought you might like the radio back on.”

Alastor did. Radio waves tugged insistently at his heart, easing a pressure previously ignored in the void, but he simply let the sound remain without much consideration on the matter. Thoughts were too jumbled to bother changing the channel or thinking too hard on the lack of strain he’d grown used to. The sound itself was… soothing in its own way. The deer had no idea how to convey the appreciation he felt for everything Angel was doing, so he just offered a tighter squeeze, arms wrapped firmly around the spider.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, suddenly feeling the overwhelming warmth again. Words would catch in his throat if he tried to speak again, so he stayed silent. Alastor's face was entirely hidden in Angel’s chest at this point, pride be damned, as the bone-deep exhaustion fought to claim him, and the red refused to leave his cheeks.

“It’s no problem, Smiles,” Angel let out a soft huff, “Just try and get some sleep, huh? You can repay me by getting better and telling us dad jokes until good ‘ol Huskie slams his head into the bar…” The spider’s voice trailed off. “Al?” Glancing down, he found the deer breathing lightly, ears twitching, fingers curling gently into his jacket. The sight was adorable, and it took everything in the spider not to rip his phone out and take a picture. Another look, and he had to suppress a squeal of delight at the extra black and red appendage wagging slowly, peaking from beneath the red undershirt.

“Oh my god, _he has a tail?_ ”

.

.

.

Nearly an hour later and the hotel was thoroughly blanketed in Hell’s version of night, darkness leaking through the curtains and absorbing any sliver of light that attempted to slip by. Angel Dust was still wide awake, five arms tasked with snuggling the life out of the infamous Radio Demon, while the sixth hand tapped mindlessly away at his phone and sent messages to the various others still up at this hour. Said deer demon, thankfully, slept like the dead and didn’t wake when Angel moved the red head to his chest fluff. Hey, he might get kicked or have an antler jabbed in his eye come morning, but he was going to make sure Alastor was _damn_ comfortable using him as a pillow.

The past few hours in themselves had been… difficult to say the least. One minute he’s thinking of all the different ways he can annoy Husk without getting cut off from his beloved supply of alcohol, and in the next Vaggie’s saying Charlie’s _‘ready’_ to try and bring their resident Strawberry Pimp back? He’d thought it was too good to be true, but hell, the deer was sleeping soundly on him right now!

Challenged with wrapping more bandages around the deer’s stomach, – the previous panic focused the brunt of his clawing there – Angel was thankful for the extra limbs and dexterity because Alastor hadn’t so much as _twitched_ , now wrapped like a Christmas present. Though he _did_ have a really fuckin’ adorable snore that Angel would gladly remember for the rest of his afterlife.

After a brief conversation over text, Charlie found a good time to stop by to drop off the thermos of soup, shoulders slouching, black circles evident under her eyes, for all purposes making Alastor look like the pinnacle of health in comparison. To put it honestly, Angel thought she looked like double-death warmed over. The thought was _not_ a pleasant one. Despite the obvious exhaustion, she’d offered a tired smile and a wave before walking out, presumably to find her girlfriend and snuggle up for the night.

Niffty had come rushing in a second later, nearly crashing into the side of the bed in her haste, and he’d had to free a hand to slap over her mouth before she could wake Alastor up with her rapid-fire questioning. After receiving a look of understanding and less surprisingly, tiny teeth sinking into his glove, he removed his hand and wrapped it back around the deer’s back. She’d been the one to bring the bandages in the first place, placing them neatly to the side, before settling in to just watch them for a while. It was a _tad_ creepy, but Angel’s seen worse, and he couldn’t exactly _blame_ her considering her old boss/mentor/father figure(?) was lying unconscious after being previously double-dead for the past five months. The poor bug couldn't even say anything to him. Eventually she’d zipped out the room fast as she’d come, muttering something about a ‘mess' somewhere and sounding a bit too sniffly for Angel's liking.

Even Husk had poked his head in at one point. The cat’s ears perked, and his nose scrunched up in a cute way at the sight of Alastor huddling up against the spider. Sunset colored eyes narrowed in something like frustration, but at what he couldn't be sure. Angel had put on his best _‘aw you do care’_ face, blinking half-lidded eyes slowly while Husk flipped him off, slinking away to get even more drunk than he already was.

The rest of his time was spent tapping away at his phone until the static in the air slipped into background noise and he thought he might have a chance of sleeping at this point. The static may have been soothing to the Radio Demon, but other demons would have a bit more trouble sleeping with the ruckus. Good thing Angel was used of sleeping through most anything. With a yawn, he reached to place his phone on the nightstand, blinking in surprise as he noticed the radio.

“What the…” he mumbled, watching the thing sift through channels with a distinct lack of music. Earlier, clips of 1930 era songs had at least been playing irregularly, but now, there was only a white noise that punctured the air and made his fur stand on end.

The source of this problem was easily identifiable as Alastor himself, considering the deer had tightened his hold, brows furrowing, and smile shrinking. His claws were beginning to prick uncomfortably into Angel’s lower back, and it took a moment to register what was actually wrong with the deer.

Alastor was trembling. He was honest to god shaking like a leaf, tiny pips of static crawling up his throat and escaping past his tight-lipped smile like whimpers. Angel’s eyes softened. He was certainly no stranger to nightmares.

“You’re okay, Al… Pretty impressive that you’re smilin’ even now, but that static gets any louder and everyone in the hotel might drop by to complain…” The noise really was reaching a harsh volume that made Angel wince. “I know you’d hate that, wouldn’t you?” he huffed out a nervous laugh, hands hesitating over the deer’s head. Would this get him bitten, kicked, or otherwise stabbed? Probably. There was only one way to know, and Angel was standing by the assumption that the ‘five foot rule’ was still being bent for now.

Gently, Angel ran his hands over Alastor’s ears. By _Lucifer_ , he’d always wanted to pet the fluffy things, and as his fingers trailed down to the base, carding through the red hair, he was pleased to find the slightest bit of tension easing out of his friend’s body. Rubbing around the bottom of the appendages made them flick and flatten slowly against Alastor’s head, the white noise that filled the room lowering with every twitch, until the music was audibly skipping in and out again.

Angel sighed in relief, head falling back to the headboard with a quiet _thunk._ Wiggling himself lower, letting his head plop back onto the maroon pillows, he was glad to note that Alastor’s shaking had subsided too. Previously labored breaths slowed to an even pace, bar the occasional hitch. A low static rumbled out his chest as Angel continued to rub around the black-tipped ears, and the spider would consider the sound reminiscent of a cat’s purring.

“Damn it Al, why you gotta be so secretly adorable? It’s too late for this shit,” he sighed. There was nothing but fondness in his voice as he watched the deer twitch and curl closer in his sleep. The usually terrifying Radio Demon was letting him see a more vulnerable, reserved side, and Angel would _not_ take advantage of it. That isn’t to say he wasn’t going to _enjoy_ the adorable mental images he was imprinting into his brain, but he also wouldn’t go telling people that he’d ‘slept with the Radio Demon’, despite how hilarious the looks on their faces would be. Alastor wouldn’t think it was funny.

With another deeper sigh, Angel decided he may as well follow in the deer’s footsteps – hoof-steps? Oh god, did Alastor have _hooves_ too? Just what else was the deer holding out on? In any case, sleep sounded like a _great_ idea. He let his eyes slide shut with an amused grin.

“If you promise not to kick me with your possibly secret hooves when you wake up, I promise not to tell anyone you like to cuddle…”

Alastor, unsurprisingly, didn't respond, only offering a soft huff of air to the conversation. Angel submitted himself to the idea of being rudely awakened once Alastor came to, but he found as the drowsiness took over and the deer pressed closer, that he wouldn’t be too mad either way.

They’d all been through hell these past five months, and he’d be damned if he pushed their resident Radio Demon away when he needed them most. There were a lot of things to be explained after all… Alastor had missed a lot in his absence. With that thought in mind, Angel settled in for the night, silently vowing to help their friend adjust in any way that he could.

Neither demon stirred for the rest of the night.


	2. Disorientation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Niffty is excited, Alastor is confused, and Husk is very very tired. Meanwhile suspicions are arising elsewhere...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Honestly I don't have much excuse besides lack of motivation these past few weeks, but I've reinvigorated my love for it, so hopefully more updates more quickly! ^^ Hope you enjoy!
> 
> TW: Referenced Death, Cursing

“Oh my gosh, this is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen Mr. Alastor do! I just wanna hop in there and hug him until-” 

“Shh, Niff, you don’t wanna wake ‘em up,” A gruff voice interrupted the overeager chirping coming from the little maid. There was a sloshing sound that Alastor could place as a bottle of alcohol even in his half-awake state, and his brows furrowed in confusion. What were Husk and Niffty doing in his room?

....What was _he_ doing in his room?

Even with the lingering confusion, the deer was currently swaddled in warmth and didn’t plan on moving as he snuggled closer to his heat source. Something fluffy was tickling his nose and he scrunched it up as the smell of _strawberries_ of all things assaulted his senses. Cracking an eye open, white fur overtook most of his vision. Hm. His source of warmth also appeared to be breathing steadily beneath him.

“Oh shit, he’s processing,” Husk commented helpfully.

Processing...Oh. _Oh_. Propping himself up, eyes blown comically wide, the deer realized he was staring at Angel Dust’s sleeping face. Because Alastor was laying on top of him. The spider’s arms were still wrapped around his back, unconsciously trying to pull him back down to cuddle.

There was a second where the deer froze, a screech of feedback escaping, before he jerked away, kicking out and knocking the porn-star unceremoniously to the floor with a _thud_.

“Ow- _Shit!_ What the hell-” Angel’s head popped back up, a hand pressed to his aching forehead while his eyes refocused. He was about to comment on Husk’s snort of amusement before Alastor caught his attention again. The deer was frozen stiff, arms hugging his chest, and expression a mix of mortified and confused. Angel was quick to remember the events prior to this morning and splay out his hands in a placating manner as he slowly stood.

“Okay, look, nothing happened! I was kinda worried about ya freakin’ out about this, but- we were just cuddling, I promise!” Alastor’s eyes flicked across the spider's face. “Al, I wouldn’t do anything without consent, you _know_ that. I wouldn’t take advantage of you. You were just panicking last night and didn’t want to be left alone, remember?”

Now that he mentioned it...Last night was rather blurry, but Alastor did recall a humiliating amount of...clinging and...panicking. And now Angel was giving him a patient, mildly hurt, look that made him feel all the worse for jumping to conclusions. Dropping his hands into his lap, the tension seeped out of the deer as fast as it’d come.

“I...My apologies, Angel dear! I had a lapse in judgement, and it won’t happen again!” Did his voice sound energetic enough? Alastor was doing his best to project, but Husk was giving him a strange look that the deer couldn’t place. Oh well. He focused his attention back on the spider. “Are you alright? I didn’t mean to kick-” A loud rumble cut in, startling Alastor as he turned claws on his stomach at the oh-so-familiar pain. His eyes went a bit wider. Oh _no_ , what happened with Charlie would not be allowed to happen again!

Husk and Niffty threw a look at each other before the little maid darted to the nightstand, then to the bed, all but flinging herself into the deer’s chest with her package. Alastor flinched letting out a startled ‘oof’ before quickly enveloping the younger demon in a hug. He had missed her _dearly_ …it felt so nice to hold someone in his arms for the first time in what seemed to be ages. It was…unusual for him.

“Mr. Alastor, we’ve missed you so much!” she chirped, “You were gone and I cleaned the hotel so many times and set things up for the new patrons and cooked for the hotel and it was kind of a lot and the food was never as good as yours but-!” Niffty fired about twenty words per second at the deer - it was a good thing he’d grown used of her manner of speech - but it was still a bit difficult to comprehend much at the moment.

“Darling, slow down! It sounds like you did a marvelous job in my…absence… I couldn’t stand the thought of never hearing your voice again, so it’s only appropriate that I came back isn’t it-?“ Alastor paused at the watery sniffle and the wetness that dripped onto his arm. 

Niffty’s big eye was brimming with tears, the little maid hardly holding them back. That made Alastor freeze before pulling her back into the embrace, ears drooping. “It’s alright dear, I’m back now… I don’t plan on dying…again.” The thought alone made his throat catch and his hands tremble, but the idea of needlessly breaking down again left a sour taste in his mouth. One time was too many. _Niffty_ was the one in need of comfort.

“Dry those tears, doll,” he added in a softer tone, swiping a few of the tears away with his thumb, “and smile! You know you’re-“

“-never fully dressed without one,” she finished with him, letting out a little giggle. Alastor widened his own grin for emphasis, earning another shaky laugh before the little maid was pressing something warm and metallic into his hands. He glanced down curiously at the…thermos?

“It’s more broth,” Angel supplied helpfully, smiling a bit at the adorable pair. Not that he’d ever call Alastor adorable to his face- he liked breathing just a bit too much…Hm, it could be worth it to see the deer's expression, though. “Charlie said you couldn’t keep the first bowl down, and after last night you were out like a light faster than she could come back.”

Alastor took this in for all of two seconds before he was hurriedly uncapping the bottle. Niffty grabbed the bottom, narrowing her eye with a chiding, “Slowly!” before the deer could just chug it again. Alastor flashed a smaller smile but did as asked, tipping the bottle back and gulping down the contents slowly. Oh, _Lucifer_ , he missed this.

Thankfully the deer was able to stop himself before getting sick this time, but Niffty stared intently when he went paler at the ensuing nausea. He waved the concern away. The feeling of fullness wouldn’t last long – it never did – but neither would it be as unattainable as it was in the Void… The sickness swirling in the deer’s stomach was unfortunately expected, but it was preferred to the constant, stabbing ache.

With a contented hum, he lowered the thermos to his lap, lightly pulling it away when Niffty tried to take it back. There was still some broth left. Alastor didn’t plan on giving up the food any time soon. She gave him a strange look but didn't push the issue.

 _Now_ it might be possible to think clearly. Surely, he had lost time to make up for! What did Charlie do without his help? Who was monitoring his radio tower? Did his absence affect the other overlords? There was simply no time to rest with so much to do!

“Right, well thank you for your company Angel Dust, Niffty for your care, and Husk for your…unusually pointed glaring! But I have much to catch up with and so little time!” Alastor shuffled to the edge of the bed prompting Niffty to jump down as he stood, summoning his staff with a gesture and going to step forward.

Three things went wrong in that moment. First, the deer’s legs buckled the instant they were on solid ground. Next, his microphone began _screeching_ feedback, the eye that was normally so focused on him, darting erratically around the room. Last, but not least concerning, a sharp pain lodged itself in his chest, the traditional tug of magic replaced by a tearing sensation in his very core. It definitely _felt_ like he was back in Hell with the static blaring in the room, his own thoughts becoming incoherent once again.

Alastor would never admit to being relieved that someone was there to catch him when his microphone and the container slipped from his grasp, staff clattering to the floor while making that horrid sound. Husk yowled, hands jerking up to cover his ears, Niffty had thrown herself down to grab the discarded thermos before broth could spill everywhere, and Angel Dust was the one to latch onto the deer before he could hit the floor.

“Alastor, turn that shit off!” Husk snarled, fur standing on end as he pressed his ears further down. 

Alastor could certainly try to oblige! His own ears were similarly flattened against his head, but he was able to snap his fingers and unsummon the staff, making the static come to an abrupt stop except for the little bit still rolling out of his own chest. Now _everyone_ looked to be in a disheveled state.

“Well,” Alastor broke the silence that followed, attempting to pull away from Angel and stand on his own, “that was certainly unexpected! But I still have things I need to-“

“Sit the _fuck_ down, asshole!” Husk snapped, wings flaring as he shot a look to Angel. The spider’s eyes went wider, but he offered a nod, turning and pushing the deer to sit on the bed again.

“Uh, yeah Al, you’ve got to stay here. You didn’t let anyone explain shit to ya and you’re obviously in no condition to leave.” Angel crossed his top set of arms, the lower pair resting on his hips and making him look more like a sassy warden than a porn-star. 

The deer's claws began to sharpen, digging into the sheets at the tension thickening in the air. He didn’t like this. The deeply engrained ‘prey’ instinct was making his heart beat a touch too fast to be comfortable. Despite this fact, he did as he always would and forced his smile wider, faking nonchalance.

“Whatever do you mean? I can get caught up in no time! And I am perfectly fine, I simply need a moment to-“

“Shut up!” Husk cut in again, making his ire rise. “Shit has happened since you were gone! You fucking _died_ Alastor, there’s no way in _Hell_ you’re just ‘fine’, so cut the bullshit act!” _That_ outburst certainly got the deer's full attention. “The world doesn’t revolve around you- you can’t just expect everything to be _normal_ now!”

Couldn’t he? What would be the point of agonizing over something he couldn’t control? There was none, or so that’s what he told himself repeatedly as his hands began to shake more visibly.

“Uh, guys,” Angel interjected, eyes darting between the two bristling demons. Alastor ignored him in favor of narrowing his eyes at the cat.

“And why not? I’m back now! All of this extra fuss in unnecessary. I can go back to work, rest my powers, and get on with my afterlife!” The ache in his chest was getting steadily worse. He balled his hands into fists to hide the ever-growing tremors.

_“Guys.”_

Husk tucked his wings closer to his body, something new coloring his expression as he hissed, “Because things are different now. It doesn't _work_ like that. I doubt you even _have_ your powers! You can’t just ignore the fact that you were dead less than 24 hours ago, like you ignore everything else you don’t want to see! Where the fuck do you think your magic went, huh? Vox took the energy right after he put a fucking bullet between your eyes!”

_“GUYS!”_

_“What?!”_ Husk shouted as they both snapped their heads towards Angel, Alastor seething internally while the cat was clearly resisting the urge to punch something. Angel had both set of arms crossed, mouth pressed into a thin line as he jerked his head towards Niffty.

The maid had a wide eye, little claws digging into the thermos as her gaze flitted between the pair. When she blinked in recognition at the silence and the realization that all eyes were on her, it wasn’t hard to notice the increased fidgeting. Before either Husk or Alastor could open their mouths to speak, let alone offer some comfort or apology, she was letting all her words tumble out in one breath. “Sorry, I’ll go and get Mr. Alastor some fresh clothes while I’m out and maybe some more soup because he’s still looking pretty hungry so I should probably hurry-!” And she was already out the door before she’d even finished, leaving a disappointed Angel, a stricken Alastor, and a very tired Husk.

“…Fuck.” Husk’s anger seemed to rush out in one sigh, shoulders slumping, wings drooping, tail stilling. There was a cold regard in his eyes. Alastor didn’t know how to react to this silent fury when he was used to flared wings, bared teeth, and comical irritation over the smallest slights. The cat’s eyes were dull and narrowed, so unlike the fiery anger or sarcastic indifference he was _known_ for. There is lack of care, and then there’s whatever _this_ was. Husk was supposed to be his closest companion…Alastor didn't know how to react to this type of anger.

Ears in a neutral position to match the other’s, Alastor watched the cat turn to glare, taking a long swig from his bottle of booze, before moving back to the door with a grumble. “I’m going talk to her. Don’t even fuckin’ _think_ about leaving this damn room. Charlie, Niff’, and the others are already worried sick. Think about something other than your own goddamn pride for once.” Without another word he was gone, and the frustration bubbling up in the deer left, a coldness replacing it as he digested the words thrown at his face. Of course, he hadn’t thought of changes. Or Vox. Or of ever coming back. He’d lost hope of being brought back quite some time ago.

The mattress sank as Angel slowly sat down, hands clasped on his knees, but Alastor paid him no mind. There should’ve been anger, spite, annoyance burning through Alastor’s thoughts. Some _sliver_ of irritation at Husk for insinuating such things, but…there was just an icy resignation gnawing at his very bones. A doubt that screamed _Husk was right_. He wasn’t fine. Things weren’t the same. He deserved to be yelled at. 

Even so, the deer clung so desperately to the lie because he didn’t know what would happen if he let himself believe the truth.

Something in his mind had…broken. Not in the way he was used to. Not in the way that had him cackling at the sight of suffering, at inflicting it himself. This was different. _Scarier_. Why else would these intrusive thoughts be hurting him so? Alastor hugged himself in vain, knowing comfort wouldn’t come and that he shouldn’t want it regardless. He didn’t deserve it. Yes, something was well and truly wrong with him if Husk’s words actually bothered him. Judgement was something that held no power over him before…What had changed that?

“Al,” Angel shifted to put a hand on his shoulder, but the deer flinched away. Angel pulled it back, hands settling in his lap instead. “You know there is a lot of stuff to talk about…right?” The spider let out a nervous laugh. “Things have just been harder on a lot of us since you’ve been…gone. Husk didn’t take it well obviously. But whatever, I’m sure you probably have a pile of questions, huh? It’s a bit surprising just how much can change in just five months in Hell- _whoa!”_

Angel jolted forward with the exclamation as Alastor wobbled, his whole form lurching forward to clutch his head in his hands. _Five months?_ It had been _five_ _months?_ There had been no way to tell time, so Alastor never could’ve known. The question was, had it been _just_ five months, or had it been five _unbelievably long_ months? 

Was it a good thing to say he’d survived for so long? Or was he weak for having a full breakdown in that little time when compared to the decades he’d been alive? Such time was daunting when faced with starvation, sensory deprivation, insanity, but a look at his mental state in the mere months stacked against all of his time existing made him look _pathetic_. Must he be constantly at war with himself…?

“Shit, Charlie didn’t mention the time did she? Damn it…I’m sorry Smiles, I didn’t mean to upset you.” The words, punctuated with a slight guilt-filled gaze were lost on Alastor who hardly twitched while his thoughts rose in a crescendo, louder and louder in his mind until it was just him and his screaming internal dialogue. 

Then everything came to an abrupt stop at the spider’s words. Slowly, Alastor mustered up the energy to raise his head, stare fixated on the far wall. Smile tight, ears flattened, Alastor was rather proud of how steady his voice came out.

“…I believe I should freshen up. Niffty said she would be retrieving a change of clothes and I very well can’t put it on filthy as I am, now can I?” The subject change was sudden, painfully so, but thankfully Angel seemed to catch on quickly.

“No, yeah a shower or bath or whatever the Hell you prefer sounds good! We’ll um…we’ll just talk when you’re done, yeah? Need help up?”

 _No_ , Alastor wanted to say. Unfortunately, his body still strongly disagreed, and he didn’t feel like dealing with his unruly staff at the moment. With a sigh he offered a stiff nod, allowing Angel to duck under his arm and help him to his feet. 

His legs trembled like a newborn fawn’s for a moment under his weight but steadied by the time they got to the bathroom. Transferring his hold to the doorframe, the deer let his claws sink lightly into the maroon-tinted wood as he turned to face Angel.

“You gonna be alright in there?” A mischievous smile grew on the spider’s face as he crossed his arms, matching the amused glint in his eyes. “I doubt you’d want me seeing that adorably fluffy tail o’ yours anymore…” Said fluffy appendage twitched up in surprise while red flooded the deer’s cheeks.

“I- you- _excuse me?”_ Alastor sputtered uselessly. Well, he supposed it was no shock Angel would comment on it considering his lack of overcoat, but he’d happily forgotten about the useless deer-like feature for some time! “No thank you-” maybe if he ignored it, Angel wouldn’t bring it up again! “I’ll be just fine, my dear! Now if you’ll _excuse me,_ ” he abruptly shut the door before Angel’s joking “You’re the deer!” could distract him.

Huffing he stumbled to the mirror, gripping the edges of the porcelain sink and glaring at his blushing reflection until the red receded. Then he shifted the glare to his tail for continuing to twitch against his will. This deer form _really_ annoyed him at times! He didn’t _like_ being called cute. He was infamous! Scary! A bloodthirsty serial killer! _The damn Radio Demon!_

“Ridiculous,” Alastor sniffed, moving to the shower and turning the water on, not satisfied with the temperature until steam filled the room. His mood sobered when he moved to unbutton his shirt, eyes drifting back to the bandages. Right…those would need to be cleaned as well.

Shrugging off his shirt, folding it, and setting it neatly to the side, he returned attention to his arms again. With a slow breath he unwrapped them, the pull on the healing gashes making him wince but not anything to bother with. The only thing _truly_ filling him with dread currently was the impending conversation with Angel Dust…

“I’ll need to know sooner or later,” he muttered to the battered demon in the reflection. Regardless of what was wanted he would need to learn…The deer sighed, berating his lack of knowledge and composure at this trying time. Hopefully a hot shower would soothe his frayed nerves…

.

.

.

“Alright, spill.”

“Hm?”

“Whatever’s been making you stare at the wall for five minutes,” the voice snipped impatiently, “instead of paying attention to a word I’ve been saying.”

The tv-head finally turned his attention fully to the moth-demon lounging on the chair opposite of him. His screen wavered as he rolled his eyes, “It’s nothing, Val, I’m just thinking.”

That earned a snicker and a wave of one of four hands, “Bullshit. I can practically see the smoke pouring out of your pretty little head, Vox. Now,” he leaned forward, clasping his hands on the desk before him, “are you going to tell me what's got you short-circuiting or not? I’ve got better things to do than watch you attempt to crash your systems for the day.” 

Vox snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. He should’ve expected this. Nosy bastard. Though he _did_ come specifically to talk about something related to this…Might as well get it over with.

“Alright, alright…It’s my magic.” Valentino gave him an unimpressed look, raising an eyebrow and peering down at him through his rose-tinted glasses. Vox sneered in response. “Something is _wrong_ with it.”

“You aren’t losing your touch, are you? Too much power gone to your head?” The moth snickered, antenna flicking to the side as he fluffed up his coat.

Vox stared for a moment before letting out a boisterous laugh. “Hell no! I’m still as powerful as the day I toppled the damn Radio Towers! _And_ when I took down the Radio Demon himself!” Despite this apparent confidence, his claws were tapping endlessly away at the table while the moth waited for the ‘but’.

“But…” _There it was!_ “…There’s this weird feeling in my chest. A tiny pull on my magic. It’s fucking infuriating because it just kept getting more noticeable as the day went on.”

“…Which is why you called me,” Valentino finished mildly.

“Exactly! It’s annoying, and I’ve been switching through feeds all day to see if some idiot is trying to mess with me, but nothing seems out of order in or outside any of our territories.” Sparks skittered across his shoulders as a growl escaped. “I would be keeping a closer eye on that trashy hotel, but there aren’t many devices in there to spy from. Of-fuckin-course the princess would make sure of that. And god forbid we touch the daughter of Lucifer's stupid pet project…”

“Don’t worry about them, I’ve still got someone on the inside remember?” Valentino soothed, pulling out his phone and tapping away at the screen before sliding it over to Vox. The other overlord shot him a look before leaning forward to read the message sent. 

_I need you to keep an eye on things over there for me Angel Cakes._

Vox raised a brow, glancing up to Valentino with a chuckle, “You really trust him at all? You realize he was the one shooting at me when I went to take out good ‘ol Ally don’t you? I wouldn’t trust his word for shit.”

A laugh was the only response Valentino offered before gesturing to the phone again.

_If anything unusual happens, you’ll be the first to know, boss._

“Angie is loyal to _me_. I own his soul! If he even thinks about betraying me I can put a stop to it faster than he can say ‘shit’. I think he learned his lesson after last time.” The overlord leaned back, smugness radiating from his expression. Angel would have to be an idiot to defy him again… 

“ _You_ on the other hand, he never really cared for. You know I would’ve taken care of it when he shot at you, but there was no reason you couldn’t stop him yourself! As long as you don’t use a holy weapon I don’t care what you do. That is, _if_ he’s directly in your way- otherwise he’s _mine_ to deal with. I can't have you permanently damaging one of my best stars, no matter what ridiculous projects he busies himself with in his free time…”

Of course not; god-forbid Vox mess up any of Valentino's toys! …Still he processed the words, sparks of energy running through his antenna as he thought. “You already know why I couldn't stick around- What with the princess showing off a bit more of her _demonic_ side…as much as any of us would hate to admit it, she _is_ Lucifer's daughter.” He summoned a small wire, fiddling with it as he spoke. “When she lets her powers loose it would be all too easy for her to tear any demon apart, overlord or not…” a quick flick of the wrist and he snapped the wire in half for emphasis. 

“I shouldn't have been surprised that she would be upset about me killing the red asshole considering he'd protected her and her friends beforehand…I just didn't expect Ally to ever get close to someone again. _Or_ for him to risk his life to save anything other than his own sorry hide.” He let out a darker chuckle, discarding the broken wire in favor of throwing his arms over the back of the chair, resisting the urge to kick his feet onto Valentino's desk. 

“Of course _you_ wouldn't expect him to,” the moth grinned cryptically. “But, to be fair, I don't think _anyone_ would've expected the Radio Demon to form any relationships… At the time he probably just considered the hotel _his_ territory. Who's to say he wasn't just protecting said territory? ...And the people in it, I suppose.”

“Yeah, sure, but you weren't _there_ Val. I've never seen anything like that from him before. It was like Al was a different demon. Sure there was the sarcasm and the ferocity and that damned grin hardly ever faltered, but there was also _desperation_.” The eyes on his screen narrowed hungrily at the memory, his grin stretching even wider. “I’ll admit it was nice seeing him knocked down a peg for once, cowering at _my_ feet. Gaining his power to go alongside my own didn't hurt either…” At the mention his magic did an annoying little pulse again and he almost groaned in frustration.

“Yes, just be glad you had the proper weaponry to make sure he _stayed_ dead.” It was hard for _anyone_ to get their hands on a holy weapon in Hell. Being overlords meant he and Vox had more facilities and people to search with, but tracking down the weapons and retrieving them was still a bothersome business. The search was well worth it for the tv-headed demon considering he wanted the Radio Demon _gone_. Permanently.

“…And you're sure we'll know the first thing that seems unusual around there?” Vox prodded.

“ _Yes_ , and if Angie doesn't come through, you or I could always just go down there ourselves, couldn't we. No trouble would need to be had, just a bit of ‘checking in' I would say…But I still think you're looking into this too much.” The moth gestured with his hands. “You took in a lot of magic and I imagine your body is still getting acclimated to it.”

“Five months after the fact? This wasn't _happening_ five months ago…” He sighed, leaning his head back against the chair. “…but whatever, I suppose you're right, I might just be looking too much into this…” Maybe he _was_ getting a bit paranoid- After all he was used of having his rival of a few decades around to constantly keep him on his toes…It was a good thing they took care of that problem at least. Thanks to him, the Radio Demon was well and truly _dead_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or so THEY think-
> 
> I did also get distracted by a side project- I've started running a blog for Void Alastor on tumblr @skittish-deer-demon if you want more content with him! Thank you for reading and stay tuned~ ^^

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who came to read this story from Null and Void, I appreciate every kudos and comment! Updates might be a little irregular as I have to finish writing out the next few chapters, but I will do my best to update consistently. ^^


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